#butalive

Genau. Nicht zynisch werden. Umzugsvorbereitungswiederentdeckung. #butalive

I don't know what I was thinking. It was a faulty circuit throughout the intricate wiring of my brain, the downfall of my attention span as logic appeared to refrain. Common sense would have told me to step on the brake, reverse, and laugh at my stupidity as I see it. But common sense was coerced by a moment of instinctual panic and maybe trying to speed past him wasn't the smartest of moves. He wasn't looking either. Two minds distracted and unaware of what was to come. I can't explain the impact, more or less how the impact itself impacted me. Incessantly uttering the word "fuck" under my breath as my trembling hand couldn't find the door handle to save it's life. A paramedic to my left and a cop to my right: a situation far too coincidental to be amidst the presence of those necessary for the given situation. What the fuck possessed me to accelerate? What the hell did I do to put this upon myself? But he was okay. So was I. I can still feel the impact. And might I say, it was quite the terrifying experience. But, I'm alive. And 18 hours later I actually realize how grateful I am to be alive, something I didn't think to appreciate when the moment actually happened. Weird.